Impossibilities
by pixelsurgeon
Summary: You're not making any headway with this conversation because she's Olivia, and she is stubborn as hell, and once she is set on a belief it takes so much convincing for her to give it up. And to her, you guess you're just some random guy who floated up naked from the bottom of the lake and happens to know her name.


**A/N: **This continues after the end of Subject 9. As you may be able to tell, it's second person from Peter's POV. I hope you enjoy!

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When you see Olivia Dunham, you think that there couldn't possibly be a more beautiful sight.

She's _there_, she's going to take care of you now, maybe there'll be a nice kiss…maybe you'll get to tell her you love her.

All you can say is her name.

Followed by a 'thank god you're here', which doesn't cover half of what you're feeling.

But then she says the three words that shatter your heart, make your smile fall off of your face and stare at her in disbelief.

"Who are you?" she asks you, and you can't believe it.

You're _Peter_, _her_ Peter, the man she loves, the man who loves _her_…

Maybe she's just messing with you.

You smile again, throw in a hint of your old charming laugh that you've perfected over the years. "Come on, Olivia."

She still looks blank, completely and totally clueless. "I'm sorry, I don't…I don't know you."

She's holding something back, you know that much, but you don't think it's her knowledge of who you are.

She genuinely believes she's never met you.

And that hurts, that stings like almost nothing you've felt before. It's poison in the spiderweb cracks of your heart.

But you have to push that away because pain is a message, and you can ignore that message—or at least try.

You have to figure this out. "You've never seen me before?"

She hesitates a second too long before telling you no.

"Never?" you ask again, because you're still in shock, still disbelieving.

"Never," she answers.

You can't help it, just sink to the ground.

"I did ask a question, though," Olivia says, getting down to business like it isn't _you_. "Who are you?"

"Peter Bishop," you say.

Why not tell her the truth?

That visibly confuses her, she doesn't seem quite able to process it. "How do you know that name?"

"Well it's my name, it's not like-"

"No, it's not your name because _that's impossible_," she says.

You're not making any headway with this conversation because she's Olivia, and she is stubborn as hell, and once she is set on a belief it takes so much convincing for her to give it up.

And to her, you guess you're just some random guy who floated up naked from the bottom of the lake who happens to know her name.

Probably thinks you're some kind of stalker.

But Walter…Walter _has_ to know you. He will. You know he will.

"Can I speak to Walter, please?" you ask.

That confuses her more. "Dr. Bishop?"

"The one and only."

"How exactly do you know about Walter?" she asks, suddenly reeling in her emotions and going into interrogation mode.

"Because he's my father."

That sounds like a plea, a whine, because you just need this one thing, you need her to believe you.

But it also sounds like a question, because now you're starting to doubt yourself.

_Are you really Peter Bishop?_

But no, you have to be. You are. You know that.

But it sounded doubtful at any rate, and now she's not going to believe you.

"You know…_Peter_…" she says, and the way she says your name like it's a fake puts a few more dents in your heart, "You might be more believable if you didn't use the identity of a child that died twenty-six years ago."

"But I'm not _from_ here. God, Olivia, I'm not—don't you remember? Can't you remember anything? Just the smallest flash? Remember, over _there_, when you told me I belonged with you? That was our first kiss, Olivia. Please tell me you can remember that," you say, and it's begging now, you're back on your feet and grabbing her by the shirt.

"The other Peter died too. I don't know who you are, I don't know what you're talking about, and if you don't let go of me I'll shoot you," she says, and there is so much seriousness in her eyes.

She would do it.

She would shoot you.

Olivia Dunham would shoot you.

You let go of her, backing away, and she turns and leaves the room without looking back.

That's when you cry.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading, and any and all reviews are appreciated.


End file.
